


The Health Risks of Sleeping

by Blood_Sucker_1428



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Big Brother Mycroft, Creepy Eurus, Family, Family Angst, Gen, Jealousy, Kid Eurus, Kid Mycroft, Kid Sherlock, Kidlock, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 06:58:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11800824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blood_Sucker_1428/pseuds/Blood_Sucker_1428
Summary: Twelve-year-old Mycroft wakes up in the middle of the night to find his little sister watching him as he slept. The child was not always… mentally sound, so waking up to her is mildly concerning for the young genius. It’s just as troubling to him that she wishes to strike up a conversation.Kidlock oneshot.





	The Health Risks of Sleeping

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this ages ago for the Mycroft fan book that was in the works. Thing is, I haven’t heard anything about it in months and I was very happy with this. I thought I’d share it with you now just in case nothing happens. I had fun writing this so I hope you like it. Please read, comment, and enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: Clearly I don't own Sherlock. The show is the baby of Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss, while Sherlock Holmes itself is the creation of Arthur Conan Doyle.

Mycroft awoke with a sudden start. It was as if his unconscious body could sense danger and urgently fought to wake him up before anything could happen. What danger? One might ask. What danger could there possibly be in such a wonderful, nurturing family home? What could there be lurking in the darkness of the Holmes family estate that should cause their eldest son to wake with heart beating fast in his chest?

The first thing Mycroft saw in his room were a set of steely blue eyes fixated on him. Illuminated by his bedside lamp, that had apparently been switched on, they lacked the innocence they should hold when contained in such a small body. They were the same colour eyes as Mycroft’s and he often found himself wondering if people had found him equally unnerving at such a young age. He doubted so. Sherlock’s sky blue eyes were full of curiosity and wonder – they didn’t send shivers down one’s spine like looking at a ghost the way Eurus’ eyes did. The little girl was dressed in her white nightgown with no shoes, no socks, and her brown hair hung loose around her face. Another little girl might look angelic, Eurus looked like she was out from hospital. Some might say that said more about Mycroft’s mind than it said about Eurus.

Shaking off the visceral reaction from the unknown nightmare or his body reacting to Eurus’ reaction, Mycroft cleared his throat and sat up in his bed. As he did he looked at the time. It was 3.15am. The family did have a penchant for dramatics and this was indeed a dramatic entrance.

 “Hello Eurus.” Mycroft said calmly and flatly to the four year old. No use putting on some soothing voice designed for children – she’d see right through it. ‘Can I help you?’ He asked like asking how he might assist a customer or intruder into an office.

 “I was watching you sleep. I was waiting to see if you stopped breathing.” Her tone was more robotic than his. Mycroft barely reacted. He raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. This talk was not unusual for the youngest Holmes sibling. To be honest, Mycroft would rather her waiting for him to die in his sleep than cutting herself with a knife or tormenting Sherlock. No one was hurt this way and Mycroft didn’t have to do anything to stop it.

 “And did I?” Mycroft asked, morbidly curious. Eurus’ mouth pulled down and she shrugged larger than she should for her little body.

 “Once, but only for five seconds.” She sighed, looking at the ground. “It was very boring.” Mycroft sniffed out a breath as a silent laugh.

 “I’ll try to make it more entertaining next time, shall I?” He said. Not even a teenager yet and sarcasm rife already. Mummy was already telling him to watch his tone. Mycroft pushed the duvet off and sat up on the bed preparing to get up. “But for now, why don’t I take you back to your room?”

 “It’s your weight, you realise.” Eurus practically cut off Mycroft’s last word. Her sharp eyes glued to his like a vulture eyeing its dying prey. Mycroft pursed his lips and silently let her continue. “If you keep down this path you’ll eventually develop high blood pressure or sleep apnoea.” She stopped to look him up and down. “Did you know seventy percent of people who have had strokes have sleep apnoea?” Mycroft rolled his eyes. To him that was a better reaction than letting the uneasy feeling in his throat take over his whole body.

 “I’m well aware, thank you sister dear.” There was that sarcasm again. Better than feeling afraid.

 “And the risks only continue to grow as you age.”

 “Yes. Thank you, Eurus.” He chided. “I am, as you know, the closest to matching your intellect. I do not need health risks spelt out to me like some dullard.” He always regretted when he spoke to his sister like that. He never knew how she would react. Would she lash out at him? Or at Sherlock? Or go dead quiet? It left him with a guilt he didn’t like. For a moment it looked like she was going to retreat into her mind. Her eyes flickered about but she appeared not to be looking around at anything in this space. Mycroft had begun formulating a way to get to is parents before a reaction when she next spoke.

 “Sherlock would hate it if you died.” She said. That anxious feeling in Mycroft’s throat fell to his stomach. He hated how much that sounded like a warning. Of course, his parents would never believe him. “He loves playing with you.” Mycroft rolled his eyes again – another classic teenaged mannerism.

 “I’d much rather he play with Victor than with me.” Mycroft retorted. Eurus only grew darker.

 “Why won’t he play with me?” She asked. “He’ll play with Victor, he’ll play with Daddy and Mummy, and he always wants to play with you. Why won’t he play with me?” The door on the other side of the room suddenly looked very far away. Mycroft pursed his lips and shook his head.

 “It’s part of the psychology of being an older sibling, Eurus.” He pulled an answer together as quickly as he could. “No big brother _wants_ to play with their siblings. They are forced to by their parents.”

 “You play with us.” Her eyes were like daggers.

 “Yes, and I’m forced to.” He hummed. “Do you see my point?”

 “Not deductions.” He could see the storm cloud forming over her head. “You two always get excited to play that together.” She was right and lying would only make her angrier. “And that time Daddy and Sherlock made you play pirates with them you laughed. A real laugh, not that silly snobby one you’ve developed recently.” He almost scoffed at that but stopped himself. This was about diffusing the bomb. Mycroft ran a hand through his hair and took a deep sigh, all an act to buy himself precious seconds to think.

 “How about we play deductions in the morning? Just you and I?” He asked, cocking his head to the side. “I’ll take you to the park and we’ll watch people.” The little girl scrunched up her face and shook her head. “No?” Her brother asked.

 “That’s your game together. I hate that game because you two play it.” She pouted. How difficult. Mycroft swallowed his breath as he glanced around his room for any type of help. He caught sight of his desk.

 “We could go to the library and read medical journals together?” He tried. “The ones Mummy won’t let you read.” The pout on the girl’s face faded and she nodded softly twice. “Does that sound entertaining?” Not fun. Nothing was ever fun with her around.

 “It’s not pirates, but it will suffice.” She said. Mycroft let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. It was like he’d diffused the bomb, the sirens had shut off, and the crowd was dissipating. This time it was safe. He stood up and offered his hand for Eurus to take.

 “It’s a plan then, sister mine.” Mycroft said. “May I take you to your room so I can continue sleeping?” A tiny hand wrapped around his and gave it a squeeze. “Good girl.” He gently praised. As she looked up at him and offered him a sad smile Eurus looked like a child. She looked like the four year old child she was meant to be, and she was cute. She’d been quite a sweet thing in the very beginning also – before she’d begun to develop.

The most frightening thing about Eurus was that despite everything Mycroft suspected that he loved her.

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think? I was a little worried about getting little Eurus right. Now I finally have a Eurus story to go with my other Kidlock oneshots. Thank you so much for reading.


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